Tiny,
rugged, welcoming, and quiet, these two Dutch islands take the hackneyed
word getaway to new and truer heights. Five and eight square miles
respectively, Saba and St. Eustatius jut boldly from the sea and extinguished
volcanos now teem in a tropical green landscape.

On
Saba (SAY-ba), the largest hotel boasts 14 rooms, and despite the
gentle climate, you may sometimes wonder if you've stumbled on the
Scottish Highlands by mistake (indeed, Saba's first settlers came
from the Shetland Islands). Travelers do not come for the beaches
because, quite simply, there are none. The shoreline is a daunting,
austere fortress of cliffs once surmounted only by way of rock-hewn
stairs at Ladder Bay. Swimming, therefore, takes place mainly at hotel
swimming pools (often with breathtaking views) - but diving's another
matter. Those foreboding cliffs drop down to an underwater vision
worthy of Jules Verne, a network of plunging ravines, spine-tingling
caves, and fantastical lava formations, in waters where visibility
reaches 200 feet. Quite a different landscape from the gentle pretty
reefs elsewhere, this spectacle attracts both seasoned divers and
intrepid beginners, since scuba facilities are one amenity at which
Saba excels. Romance earns four stars as well; 3,000-foot Mount Scenery,
crowned with its own personal raincloud, is riddled with glorious
rainforest hiking trails, and Saba's lone road -The Road -is a rollercoaster,
with thrills and vistas aplenty. Small gingerbread villages are the
height of civilization (with weekend dances the only nightlife), and
in the mountainside inns, soft clouds may seep hauntingly right through
the rooms.

The
flavor of "Statia" is similar: The Quill, at 2,000 feet, presides
majestically over a few rustic enclaves and the now-modest streets
of Oranjestad, fallen - if gracefully - from its 18th-Century status
as an elegant, prosperous trading hub. Unlike Saba, Statia does have
a beach or two: on the warm, inviting Caribbean, strips of volcanic
gray sand; on the rough Atlantic side, broader golden sands more pleasant
for sun lounging. The diving is less impressive, but there are underwater
ruins to peruse, amenable also to snorkeling. Here, too, inns are
cozy and nightlife is intimate - that is, yours to create.

On
both islands, just about everyone speaks English. Food is unpretentious,
with the occasional gourmet flourish, and sports are scarce (each
island boasts one tennis court; find a lawn, and you might scare up
a round of croquet).

Mention
these two remote gems - reached via St. Maarten - to divers, old-fashioned
honeymooners, and clients who yearn to step off the well-trodden path
and savor a paradise of privacy.